


I don't wanna be! DRAMATIZED!

by idyllSunset



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: And I will gladly add mine to the pile, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Gen, I imagine theres about to be twenty of these fics, Major Character Injury, Manberg Festival, No respawns, Realistic Minecraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27055954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idyllSunset/pseuds/idyllSunset
Summary: Techno is given an order.(An order by a president he doesn't condone. An order by a ruler who has men ready to enforce his will. An order by a man who's telling him to kill, who's told him to kill before, who's well aware that Techno was capable and willing.)He's less willing when it's an ally. When it's a kid. When it's Tommy's best friend.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 10
Kudos: 439





	I don't wanna be! DRAMATIZED!

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from [Traumatized](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-Lp7JZwRnk&ab_channel=SadDanceParty-Topic) by Sad Dance Party!

Techno weighs his options.

He doesn’t know what to do.

“Technoblade, we’re runnin’ on a tight schedule, here,” Schlatt says impatiently.

Techno feels sweat beading down his neck. It has nothing to do with the weight of his armor and weaponry and everything to do with the kid that’s trembling in front of him. He’s trapped in more ways than one, too. For one, he’s never verbalized that he’s against Manberg, so his flimsy claim to neutrality can only stay intact if he respects social conventions. Secondly, he’s in the open, alone, standing in enemy territory with a dozen people who would jump him if he steps out of line and disrupts the festival. Not to mention Wilbur’s plan - if he sets things off before Wilbur can detonate his bombs, then everyone will scatter and the failure will be Techno’s fault. With so many factors, he has no choice but to stand still and ask, “What do you want outta me, Mr. President?”

Schlatt sighs. “I only call you in for special favors. You and I go way back, right?”

Techno goes stiff at the words. When he came to this place to help his brothers fight, he knew he’d be opposing Schlatt. He knew that he had a history, that Schlatt had hired him as muscle before. After all, he wasn’t the only one who knew Schlatt. Wilbur and Schlatt had practically been two peas in a pod before this whole mess.

He didn’t think that it would get dragged out in public, into the limelight, that he has blood on his hands, and that he’d done it for money and little else.

So he feigns ignorance, and says, “I— I dunno what you—”

“Schlatt,” Quackity cuts in, stepping forward with furrowed brows and a concerned expression. “What are you actually talking about?”

“Techno, I need you to take him out,” Schlatt says.

Take Tubbo out. Tubbo, the sixteen-year-old sweetheart. The one who’s never done any harm unprovoked or unprompted. The one who’s stuck his neck out for Pogtopia numerous times. The one who Tommy loves more than anything in the world.

_Jesus, Tommy would never forgive him._

His heart pounds so hard against his chest that it makes his breathing stutter. Behind him, the crowd exclaims in either outrage or excitement. But Techno, for his part, is staring wordlessly at the president who is looking him dead in the eye and not giving a single inch.

“I want you to fucking kill him,” Schlatt growls.

“Oh. I understand now,” Techno says, trying to stall for time. If he can just— just bullshit a conversation—

“Murder him right now on this fucking stage!” Schlatt yells, his voice nearly making Techno flinch. “And make it hurt!”

Techno’s heart is beating so hard in his ears that he can’t hear anything from anyone down in the crowd. He turns to them, eyes wide behind his mask, sweat dripping down his neck, shifting his weight back and forth. From this distance, he can’t catch much information from them. Only that most are sitting, most are waiting, most are willing to let this happen. Someone down there is yelling at him, and Schlatt is yelling at him, and he catches none of it, thinking a million miles a minute.

He can’t fight everyone here and win, because that’s not physically possible. He can’t let them think they’ve won, because if they scatter, the TNT won’t catch anyone. He can’t kill a kid, but he can’t run and leave the kid to get blown up. He can’t obey, he can’t defy, he can’t can’t can’t _can’t—_

For every option that seems like the right one, there are ten reasons why it won’t work out any better, so he just stands there, looking back and forth between the kid and the crowd, waiting for something to give.

The other dude in the suit - Quackity? Hell if Techno knows who he’s supposed to be - shuffles forward to edge closer to his president. Techno zeroes in on it; forces himself to start listening again. “Schlatt— Schlatt, listen, we have him trapped. He’s jailed! I think that’s enough for breaking the Constitution—?”

“We could imprison him,” Techno agrees quickly.

“It’s not enough,” Schlatt says icily.

“Schlatt. Are you sure?” Quackity asks, his voice breaking.

There’s a long silence.

“He’s jailed,” Quackity repeats.

Schlatt ignores him and slowly raises his gaze to Techno instead. “Technoblade.”

“Technoblade?” Tubbo whispers.

“Yeah?” Techno says, unsure of which person he’s responding to.

“Are we gonna do it?” Schlatt challenges.

On the throne, the kid chokes and says, “T-Technoblade?”

Techno loads a set of rockets into his crossbow.

“Are you going to do it?” Schlatt asks, egging him on.

And then, things fade, because people from the crowd start speaking up, noting how he’s loaded his crossbow with festival rockets, asking him not to do it, all while Schlatt provokes him.

He glances back and forth, looking at Schlatt, and the kid, and the crowd, and Jesus, the kid is crying, and scrabbling at the walls that were put up around him. He looks like a caged animal, throwing his body at the wall with his shoulder to try and bust it down, and he keeps squirming and he's never gonna get a clear shot if—

A plan forms in Techno’s head.

He reaches to his belt, pulls up his pickaxe. The Technodrill. He has to do this fast so nobody asks questions. He lines up his path, lifts his pick, and judges mid-swing—

He must miss slightly because when he drives his pickaxe sideways through the kid’s jacket to pin him to one of the walls, the kid screeches in pain. Tubbo scrabbles at the handle of Techno’s netherite pick and tears fall from his eyes as he looks up and cries, “Technoblade?!”

Behind him, the crowd reacts in surprise, but only for a moment before Schlatt steps in.

“It’s _not good enough!”_ Schlatt says.

Techno agrees. He lifts his crossbow and points it at Tubbo, pretending to line up a shot while in his head, he’s doing an entirely separate calculation. In his periphery, he can see how the concrete that the Manberg dudes laid around Tubbo is curved, that it leaves space for the audience to watch, that it opens up wide enough for Schlatt and Quackity to easily look in. It’s curved, it’s open, and Techno tries to figure out the angle he would need to hit in order for—

The kid sobs, collapsed to the side of the throne where he’s held in place. “I— What—? I can’t—?” the kid sniffles, looking up at what he thinks is his soon-to-be executor.

“Tubbo,” Techno says blankly, trying to figure out how to sneak in a warning.

“Yes?” Tubbo responds with hope rising in his voice, _because of course he fucking does._

“Tubbo, I’m sorry,” Techno says. “I’ll make it as painless as possible, Tubbo.”

Tubbo’s eyes widen, and his legs kick, seeking purchase enough to dislodge the pickaxe trapping him. “No,” he whimpers.

Schlatt, of course, takes this moment to laugh maniacally.

“What the hell?!” Tubbo yells, fear-stricken.

“I’m sorry,” Techno repeats, trying to make it as genuine as he can, hoping against all hope that somehow the kid will understand that he doesn’t want to do this.

And the crowd—

Everyone’s talking, everyone’s yelling, and Schlatt is leering over him—

And then, the moment he’s waited for. Tubbo raises his arms and covers his head.

So he lifts his aim three feet above Tubbo and fires.

Like he thought, the blast ricochets, blowing back in the faces of the government officials on stage, but they’re just staggered, so Techno loads another shot, angles this one at the ground in front of him and fires again.

Schlatt and Quackity are blown clear off the stage.

After a second, still mildly blinded and deafened by the fireworks that he set off inches from his body, he laughs in victory.

A pearl shatters against the ground in front of him, and Tommy’s there, grabbing his chestplate, shaking him, shouting something he can’t hear enough to understand. Techno’s still laughing — he can’t believe he pulled that off, but Tommy is screaming, and Tommy is crying, and Tommy doesn't see the people running from the crowd to attack them both. It’s all Techno can do to grab Tommy’s arm and shove him towards the throne.

_(He hopes the kid’s still alive.)_

Techno, for his part, turns to the crowd, who are now standing up and moving, so he loads his crossbow and fires. Covering fire, sure, but he’s also aiming to kill. If any of these motherfuckers get caught, it’s their own fault for sitting idly by during the execution of a child. He cackles again, firing wildly.

As he fires his fourth shot, he thinks to himself that this must be it.

People from the crowd are scattering or pursuing, but the important part is that Quackity and Schlatt fell off the stage. When Techno glances, he can see Schlatt sprawled against the hillside. If the bombs go off— there are seventy-two thousand pounds of explosives under this stage. That must be enough to finish them off.

_This is it!_

When he looks over his shoulder, Tommy is fighting some armored men, and the throne still has the kid’s body in it. Techno’s heart sinks, and he drops his crossbow to hurry over. His pickaxe is now the only thing holding the ~~body~~ kid up, so he steps up the throne and dislodges it with one tug. Once it’s gone, the body slumps down and—

—groans?

 _Oh thank fucking god,_ Techno thinks to himself, and he leans down and wraps his left arm around the child’s torso, lifting until he’s carrying him. His hand flies to his back, to his glorious trident, and he hurries off the stage and reels his arm back as he hops in the waterfall. When he juts his arm out, the trident sends them flying straight into the lake fifty feet away. From the standing water, he pulls back his trident and sends himself flying one more time, this time landing on solid ground with a stagger. He’s waterlogged, and he’s holding a hundred-and-fifty pound kid, but he is fucking Technoblade and he can do this. Even if he can’t hear, even if he can’t run, even if he’s just made enemies of everyone in the land, he can carry this kid back to the base.

The child, who breathes weakly in his grasp, who whimpers mindlessly when Techno stashes his trident so that he can lift the kid properly.

Tubbo. Alive.

~~Barely.~~

In the distance, Techno sees Tommy being pursued by five adults in full armor. It’s nothing he has time for, if he's being entirely honest. The kid in his arms needs more medical attention than the kid who’s still up and running. Techno refuses to let personal feelings cloud his judgment, so he breathes deep and forces himself to think critically.

Tommy is fast. Tommy can escape.

Tommy could, in time, forgive him for this - both for walking away without helping, and for endangering Tubbo. But Tommy would never _ever_ forgive him if the kid died.

Techno weighs his options.

He knows what to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Does anyone else think about how Techno swapped from [Subscribe to Technoblade] which was in slot 2 to [The Technodrill] which was in slot 6 just to hit Tubbo before he shot them? No? Just me? Aight cool.


End file.
